


Twists across a dusty land

by Nary



Category: Firefly
Genre: Delusions, F/M, Frottage, Mental Instability, Nipple Play, Orgasm, Strip Tease
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-11-30
Updated: 2010-11-30
Packaged: 2017-10-13 11:26:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/136844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nary/pseuds/Nary
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Strip club. I'm sure you must've heard of 'em before, Doc. Or don't they have 'em on Osiris? Maybe there gents pay a gal to take off her gloves real slow, or lift her skirt up high enough to show her ankles."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Twists across a dusty land

"We found her!" Simon yelled, "Her stage name is Rio Loca."

"Don't that mean Crazy River in Spanish?" Mal croaked out. Yelling over the music and the noise of the crowd at the impromptu street festival, combined with the smoke and dust in the air, had given him a powerful frog in his throat.

Simon looked dour. "It doesn't matter what it means. We have to get her out of that… that sordid place!"

"Strip club," Jayne elaborated bluntly. "I'm sure you must've heard of 'em before, Doc. Or don't they have 'em on Osiris? Maybe there gents pay a gal to take off her gloves real slow, or lift her skirt up high enough to show her ankles."

Simon ignored him. "We have to rescue her."

"Could be she don't wanna get rescued," Mal suggested. "She took off all on her lonesome, after all. And I don't fancy getting' in the way if she decides to put up a fight." He glanced at the poster Simon had pulled off the wall of the club, then quickly looked away. "Besides, I don't know as how I can… can see that. Makes me all manner of uncomfortable."

"I can't argue with that," said Simon. "And I think the club might be owned by the… the mob? There are bouncers, scary ones. With guns. It all looks sort of shady." Mal and Jayne shot each other the look that said _Is he for real_? "All I mean is, we have to be careful," Simon protested. "We can't just grab her off the stage and run for it."

For once, it was Jayne who came up with the plan. "I'll go in, hire a private dance with her, then hustle her out the back. Better'n causing a ruckus if we don't have to."

The others exchanged glances. "All right," Simon said at last, though he seemed less that completely thrilled with the scheme.

"We'll be waiting out back, just in case," added Mal.

Jayne nodded. "Oh," he said as he turned to go, "one of you'll have to lend me the coin for the dance. Usually they make you pay up front, and I'm skint right now." He stifled a grin as Simon dug into his pocket and handed over a small fortune in gold. "Don't know as your sister's worth _that_ much, Doc," he said, and sauntered off before Simon could squeeze out a retort from between his clenched teeth.

The club was shady, Simon hadn't been wrong about that. Jayne knew the type of place – you'd pay through the nose for something a step up from rubbing alcohol in a chipped glass and count yourself lucky if the girl on stage wasn't too wasted to dance. He slipped one of the doc's coins to the tattooed bouncer as he strolled in, and they exchanged a curt nod – they had an understanding now, though it wouldn't hold up long if Jayne started causing trouble. But at least trouble wouldn't likely come looking for him.

The crowd were mostly miners, by the look of them, with that grizzled never-quite-clean look and eyes famished for the sight of a woman. The girl on stage as he took a seat was only a 'girl' by the loosest definition of that word – Jayne figured she was forty-five if she was a day, and probably had more beers in her than teeth. When the waitress in the skimpy skirt came up alongside him and asked what he wanted, he said "The most expensive drink in the house," and handed over some more of Simon's money with a grin.

Fortunately, their most expensive drink wasn't actually half-bad, since he had to sit nursing it through four other dancers ranging from mediocre to downright homely before she finally made her appearance. As the lights came up, River stood, head down, in the centre of the stage. She wore a flowing red skirt and a tiny scrap of fabric tied across her breasts. The crowd perked up as if through some sort of herd instinct, sensing a change in the air. When the music started, a pulsing, steady beat, she began to dance, and Jayne forgot all about why he was supposed to be here and just stared instead, jaw hanging slack. She swayed and bent like a willow switch, tossing her hair and arching her back seductively. Her eyes were half-closed, as if she danced for herself alone, ignoring the crowd who devoured her with their gaze. As she twirled, the skirt flared out, giving a quick glance of what was underneath – long legs, high-heeled shoes, and not much else, as far as Jayne could tell.

The music picked up speed, becoming more urgent, more wild. River's skirt fell to the floor, leaving her in a pair of white panties that didn't even half-cover her firm little arse. The strip of cloth tied around her chest dropped a moment later, to the cheers of the crowd. Her tits were on the small side, but not so small that they didn't jiggle sweetly as she swiveled and ground her hips. When she grabbed the pole and spiraled herself around it somehow, a little part of Jayne's brain went _snap_ and he realized he was stiff as a ramrod.

One of the miners, drunk and laughing, tried to clamber up onto stage. River didn't seem to notice him at first, but when he grabbed her wrist, she suddenly moved smooth as silk and flipped him onto his ass without skipping a beat. The crowd thought it was hilarious, and more than a few coins hit the stage as tokens of their admiration. At least the fellow wasn't hurt so bad that he couldn't walk when the bouncers collected him and tossed him out.

River shimmied out of her skivvies, showing all and sundry her shaved mound before lifting one leg up above her head to give them a look at that pretty pink slit spreading open. Jayne's jaw dropped a little further as his pecker did its best to bust out of his britches. She spun on one toe like the dancer in the little music box Jayne's ma used to have, except, of course, a whole hell of a lot more naked. He wanted to throw a blanket over her, to keep her all to himself, and at the same time got considerably heated thinking about how she was flaunting herself to all these strangers, knowing how many men were lusting after her slim, young body right now.

With a final flip around the pole and a smile that didn't seem to be directed at the audience at all, she was done. There was a relatively generous scattering of applause, along with the handfuls of coin – mostly silver, a few gold – that she quickly collected before leaving the stage, and a few men immediately rose to try and grab her for a private dance when she reappeared in costume again. Jayne knew he'd have to get in there quick if he didn't want to lose her again.

He picked his way across the dimly-lit room, around the obstacles of chairs, tables, and other patrons, only to find she was already in conversation with a scrawny feller with an ugly moustache. Jayne cleared his throat, and then when the other guy didn't shut up, gave him a friendly tap on the shoulder. "I was wanting to have a word with the young lady," he said, smiling in a completely innocuous, yet still somehow threatening way. The moustache feller gave him a good long look and then backed off real quick.

River smiled at him, but there was no sign of recognition in her eyes. "You want a private dance, mister?" she asked, tipping her chin down and looking up at him through those long eyelashes. Jayne tried to answer, found his throat didn't seem to be working quite right, and nodded instead. She took him by the hand and led him down a narrow hallway lit by one bulb that flickered and buzzed. It smelled of booze and pussy, just like Jayne liked it.

The room for the private dances was smaller, quieter than the main stage area, a few low benches separated by thin partitions for the barest suggestion of privacy. There was another bouncer who lingered just outside the door, obviously ready to move quickly if anything untoward happened. Jayne kicked himself mentally for not thinking of that, and wondered how he'd get by the bastard when the time came. A few of the other nooks were already occupied, the dancers' bare skin looking purple and mottled in the half-light. River sat him down in a corner booth. "You know the rules, right?" she asked, businesslike.

"Everyone's got different rules," Jayne replied, his voice hoarse. "So how's about you remind me."

"I can touch you, but you don't touch me. Your hands stay at your sides. No kissing, licking, anything like that. Oh, and cash up front – two gold'll do the trick." It was a pretty average price, and Jayne paid it willingly as he wondered how exactly to broach the subject of her leaving with him. He hadn't figured on her acting like she'd never seen him before in her life.

When the music started again, River stood in front of him, and stripped her clothes off fast – still graceful, still teasing him with the show, but not wasting any time. She brought her arms around his shoulders, bending forward until her tits were in his face, close enough to suck at those cute little nipples, if he'd been allowed to. She straddled his lap, grinding her hips against his cock as it strained to break free.

"So. You like doin' this?" Jayne asked her, trying to start some conversation that might lead to _How about you and me get out of here?_ and distracting himself from the ache in his groin.

"I like to dance," she said, cupping her breasts in her hands and letting her hair swing soft against his face in a most distracting way.

"Yeah, I know." When she gave him a quizzical look, he continued. "I mean, it shows in the way you move an' everything. Like you're all alone up there."

"But I am," she replied simply, and planted one foot against the wall behind them, letting him have an up-close look at her pussy, its sweet little furled lips and the nub of her clit nestled where they joined, the smell of her wetness warm as he breathed her in. Yeah, she was liking this all right, though he wasn't sure if it was for the same reasons he was. He wanted nothing more right at that moment than to bury his head between those thighs and eat her up, but there were plenty of good reasons why he couldn't, including the heavily-armed gorilla by the door and her brother waiting impatiently in the alley outside. Fuck, but she smelled good…

She straddled his lap again, running her hands over his chest. With a devious smile, she gave one of his nipples a pinch through his shirt, making him gasp, even as she squirmed against him more eagerly. He almost thought she was – fuck, she _definitely_ was – rubbing herself along his length, slit gliding over the coarse fabric of his pants, and her breathing was coming fast and shallow. Jayne wanted to cup her ass in his hands and urge her along – hell, he _really_ wanted to hoist her up against the wall and fuck her right then and there. Somehow, heroically, he managed to restrain himself, even as she gave a little mewling cry and trembled against him. He wondered if she was faking it. He was pretty gorram sure she wasn't.

She sat atop him twitching for a little bit, and then stood hastily. There was a considerable damp spot on the front of his britches where she'd been. "I… I'm sorry," she said, looking confused and shaken. "We're not supposed to… I don't know what happened… I… Oh, Jayne, have you been here long?"

The bouncer poked his head around the corner, making sure everything was okay. Jayne stood, which took some considerable effort, and hobbled his way over to the man at the door. "Here," he said, and handed him the rest of Simon's money. "You look the other way for a few minutes, and we'll have no trouble, _dong ma_?" The bouncer did a quick mental calculation involving the sum of money and the glare on Jayne's face and nodded. Jayne tried to rearrange himself into a slightly more comfortable configuration and pointed to River's discarded clothing. "Put it back on, girl, and we'll get out of here."

River did as she was told, looking blank and bewildered. "I was having a dream," she said quietly. "Did I walk in my sleep?"

"Naw," said Jayne, taking her by the arm to steer her out of the room, past the obliging bouncer and out the back door to where Mal and Simon were waiting for them. He should have been in a foul mood, with a raging hard-on and no hope of satisfaction apart from his own hand in the immediate future, but somehow he wasn't. "You just danced some."


End file.
